Alone
by MaybeYou'llGetIt.MaybeYouWon't
Summary: Renae has always been fascinated by fiction. She would give anything to be a part of the adventures in it. And when she's pulled into that world, she's thrilled. But sometimes your dreams don't come true, and Renae must learn the hard way what it means to be herself. T for mild sexual themes.


**This is a story that, yes, has several OCs. AND YOU WILL EXCEPT THEM. Just kidding. You can do whatever you want. Annnyyyywhoooooo, I'll make sure Renae is not a Mary Sue. I have big plans for her.**

**List of all fictional worlds involved: PJOato/HoO, HP, TMI, DW**

**Cameos from: BttF, KK, KC, Sherlock, probably some other stuff (I'll let you know when a chapter has cameos)**

**Disclaimer: I own everything in this chapter (except for the quick Harry Potter reference). I won't own anything in future chapters, however.**

The sun had gone down long before.

It was far past Renae's curfew.

And she was out, roaming the streets. Alone.

This was usually how her life worked. Her parents told her to go to bed, and she pretended for a moment or two before sneaking out the window. It was only a foot an a half drop from the sill to the ground, but Renae had to carefully remove the screen and then carefully replace it in a way that was both inconspicuous and easily removed in case she had to make a quick entrance.

Tonight she was dressed all in black—black dress, black tights, black boots—and her hair was pulled into a ponytail nearly on top of her head. No weapons could be found on her person, if you exclude the blue plastic hair brush and cheap ballpoint pen. Only she figured they could be used in combat. Also—let's face it—Renae didn't have any clue how to fight.

But a girl could hope.

And Renae was _completely made_ of hope.

You see, Renae was special. Not in the my-parents-told-me-I-was-special way, but in the honest-to-goodness, different-from-everyone-else way. There are pessimists, there are realists, and there are optimists. And then, there's Renae. She wasn't any of those. She was too hopeful to be a pessimist, too dark to be a optimist, dreamt too much to be a realist.

And the most important thing of all—she was completely and totally immersed in fictional worlds at all times. Books, television, movies, video games, the lot. They made her brain work in ways others' didn't. They gave her wisdom. And, possibly the most important, they presented her with hope.

If a little hope was effective, and a lot of hope was dangerous, then Renae was in so much danger.

The shadows down the alleyway to her right shifted, and she let out a quickly stifled yelp.

"Hello," he said, grinning at her. Renae rolled her eyes. It was Carson. Opposite from Renae in absolutely every way. He played sports and had lots of friends and was handsome—she admitted it. But Renae despised him.

"Go away, Umbridge." She told him. His last name wasn't Umbridge, it was Foreman. But that was what Renae called him, the most vulgar thing she could think of. Carson had absolutely no interest in fantasy, and consequently knew nothing of Harry Potter. Renae could call him Lesterange, for all he would understand. His blonde hair flopped into his eyes. Another thing she disliked: his hair. Dark hair had always appealed to her more; it gave the person a look of mysteriousness.

Renae winced inwardly. That sounded shallow even as she thought it.

"What's a girl like you doing out on a night like this?" He raised his hand to point at the full moon. "Especially in that getup." His eyes raked her body. "Every rapist in the city'll go after you."

The dress _was_ short. And tight. The boots, she was hoping, would give her more of a don't-mess-with-me look, but that must've failed epically.

"Are you saying that I look _sexy_, Carson?" Renae's cheeks flushed. That wasn't exactly what she was going for, but the compliment was rather gratifying, even coming from her mortal enemy.

She hadn't always hated Carson. Once, they'd been good friends. But he had done something she'd never forgive.

"Not in the slightest," he replied smoothly. But he winked.

"Ew," Renae stuck out her tongue. "Don't flirt with me. Please."

"See you around, Renae." He waved and sauntered off, chuckling to himself.

She kept making her way down the street, trying (and failing) to make no noise. Renae kept a sharp look out for anything...unusual. Everything seemed the same, but tonight the shadows seemed a bit thicker.

_Maybe I'll get lucky this time, _Renae thought, just as something fell on top of her.

**Yeah, I know. It's pretty bad. But it'll get much better!**


End file.
